


Lodestone Elixir

by Hawkflight



Series: The Forgotten Kingdom [2]
Category: Bloodborne (Video Game), RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Blood and Violence, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Graphic Description, Mystery Character(s), Rebirth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 13:43:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10466355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hawkflight/pseuds/Hawkflight
Summary: Use to navigate the Forgotten Kingdom of Yharnam, with moderate difficulty.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Quick note - my laptop died on me, so at the moment Diamond Eclipse/Kuno no Merodi/Ultimate Amiss/and a bunch of other tshuirn/pgrises that are at various stages of completion will be on hold. Since I need to have it looked at and see what went wrong (i think it's just the battery, but if it was the hard drive i'll need to rewrite everything, which will delay it further and probably make me do this: x.x for a couple hours).
> 
> But anyway, I'm borrowing the other laptop in the house right now, and if the files are fine i'll just put them on an external drive and copy what i'll be working on onto this laptop.
> 
> Now sit back and enjoy more Bloodborne/RWBY fusion.

_~ The world is indeed comic, but the joke is on mankind. ~_

_H. P. Lovecraft_

Her aura had been depleted, to the point she could feel the sting in her ankle. It was too great for her to get back up, to stand and fight. It was such a small part in the body, thin and made of tiny bones; it was a wonder it hurt so much, blossoming out to make the surrounding area go numb, to throb in time with her heart, but sending out roots of pain rather than blood-filled veins.

The clicking of heels sounded off to her left, as confident as the voice they carried.

"It's unfortunate you were promised a power that was never truly yours." The woman stepped closer, stopping to kneel down and tip her own head up to face her: Cinder. "But take comfort in knowing that _I_ will use it in ways you could never have imagined."

Pyrrha pulled her chin out of the woman's grip. "Do you believe in destiny?"

"Yes."

 _Click. Click._ Cinder stood up, her bow seemingly forming out of thin air, taking up shards of glass and melding them with dying embers. The arrow was notched, the tip staring at her as she gazed up at what she knew would be the instrument to kill her. Still, it didn't fully sink in until another second passed and the arrow was sent loose, piercing her chest.

She was aware of a gasp slipping past her lips when it hit, as if she somehow hadn't expected it. Hadn't expected to die here. There was a smug grin on Cinder's face, as if she knew she would come out the victor. And who's to say that wasn't written in her destiny? She had thought she was destined to become the Fall Maiden, to beat the people that were causing the chaos in the streets _right now_.

As she was kneeling in front of her killer, gasping as her heart slowed, her lungs slowly collapsing. She could see her aura floating in the air, bright red sparks rising up from where the arrow had struck her, unable to defend her from the lethal blow. And there was... a ringing in the back of her skull, getting louder with every second that passed. Every second her heartbeat slowed further it increased in tempo, filling every corner of her skull, making it practically pulsate from the force.

So this was what dying was like? Horrible unending pain that made it feel like she was being ripped from her very body? Was it because it was disintegrating? She could see a dull glow on her skin, her clothes, the strand of hair that hung at the side of her face - it had gotten loose during the fight.

Her focus was split between watching this all happen to her, _feeling_ it; and all the people she was leaving behind the moment she forced the elevator up, somehow thinking she was protected from death after what Ozpin had showed her. That it was her destiny to protect the world, like all the hunters and huntresses before her. He had convinced her to take up the mantle of the Fall Maiden, she had been ready to receive the powers too late. She would never see Jaune again. Or Nora, stuffing her face full of every pancake that Ren would make in the morning for the team, leaving the rest of them to snatch something from the cafeteria before the day began. What was left of team RWBY after Weiss disappeared months ago.

That dull glow on her flared up in a second, a bright yellow that dulled to orange in her vision briefly. It felt like her head was spinning, like she just had the wind knocked out of her, even though there was no oxygen in her body. Even though she couldn't even feel her body anymore, something she was almost grateful for. Because it meant she had failed in her destiny, in her journey to become a huntress, to protect everything she loved.

She wanted to scream, to cry, but she couldn't display such emotions anymore. It was almost like being suspended in the air, like a near death experience but... but people that experienced that saw their body. Pyrrha didn't see anything but the woman standing before her, fingers wrapped around her circlet, everything else had disappeared with her very being. And in a moment her vision went white as the phantom of her body was carried off by the wind in gold sparks.

The words just registered briefly in her mind, everything she wanted to say, to scream at the top of her lungs while feeling hot tears running down her non-existent cheeks were condensed into two words:

_I'm sorry._

And then there was silence. Darkness.

Everything was still. Or it felt still. She got the sense that she was moving, racing forward in the darkness, down a wind tunnel she couldn't see. It was the oddest feeling, feeling without a single nerve impulse. But no one knew what death was like until they felt it, so it's not like she could say it felt _wrong_ , just different. There was no air, nothing pressing down on her as she moved at what she subconsciously knew to be ridiculous speeds. Just a soft pull drawing her forward, like her formless self was being tugged by an invisible cord; like a marionette.

A cord that uncoiled, splitting itself as many times as needed to create more threads, then pulling them back into its core.

And at that core she could hear again. Things that would have chilled her blood if she possessed even a droplet of it. The sound of screams surrounded her, so high-pitched it didn't even sound human, but more like the yowl of a cat. A dying cat at that. Some were lower, groans that drew out to impossible lengths as they tried to transcend to a scream and failed, yearning to make their suffering heard. Others sounded wet, like the person was gagging on the blood in their throat as they screamed, making odd noises that words failed to describe in her dazed state.

Even more animalistic noises followed: growling, claws scraping at stone, the snapping of bones; a thousand shards of fired clay hitting the ground, like rain. The _squelch_ of flesh beneath stone, nearly overpowered by the shattering and shrieking of brick and wood that followed such a horrific sound.

It was all followed by the impossible: her eyelids flickering, lashes fluttering against skin, then parting as she opened her eyes unable to stop herself when she realized she could. Unable to block out what was in front of her.

Dozens of corpses seemed to fill the area, most in pieces or the insides on the outside. Their innards offered a splash of color on the dark grey and brown background. A pile of bricks that obviously came from a gaping hole two-stories above it bled onto the cobblestone below, the blood oozing slowly across the ground, filling every crevice in the stone.

A person was screaming as a wolf-creature pinned it to the ground, all dark fur and red eyes, but it lacked the white gleaming bone of Grimm. Its frame was thin, like it hadn't eaten in days, and it tore into the stomach of its victim, sharp claws pierced flesh, bleeding the woman out from long scratches to her arms, as if to quiet her so it could enjoy its meal. It was efficient enough, she stopped flailing, stopped screaming within thirty agonizing seconds. And even then her tortured screams echoed in Pyrrha's ears, along with everyone else that was alive.

They ran from the monsters, some trying to dodge in blind terror, others falling to the ground in howls of dread. Those that knew they had no chance, couldn't fight back, couldn't even delay their death even if they wanted to. These were citizens of the Kingdoms, gathered together for one big slaughter. They hadn't unlocked their aura, had nothing to defend themselves with, much less fight back with.

That's not to say no one tried.

A man had picked up a fallen brick, thrown it at one of the beasts; and it had picked it up and thrown him in response, chasing after his body to pick him up as he kicked and punched at it, by chance landing a blow to its eye. With a shriek it slammed him down, head first onto the rim of a stone fountain. Needless to say, his skull split open, blood arced through the air, staining the statue at the fountain's center. But most of the blood drained right from the crack in his head into the fountain, filling a portion of it with the thick liquid.

Another man was shouting, saying he didn't deserve this, had never done nothing wrong, that he didn't belong in this hell. For someone, _anyone_ to spare him. His cries came to a stop when the two purple-furred creatures tugging on him pulled his arms from their sockets, letting out cries of triumph at their success when the man fell forward, dead before he even hit the ground.

Pyrrha took in a breath, lungs expanding as they took in the oxygen. This... _what was this?_ It was clearly a massacre, but why was she here? What were these things? Why had they attacked? For flesh? To engage in this blood fest? Never ending gore porn from the mind of some higher being with a deranged fetish?

Either way she shouldn't be here. She had died, she knew it, and yet she could feel the cold air against her skin, the metal of her armor, everything. She could smell the stench coming from the corpses, the very thing that had drawn the crows to them, now tearing away with talons and beaks. Crows the size of dogs.

Even so she couldn't just lay here, watching this. She was a hunter, and it was her duty to help these people. If she could get up.

Pyrrha reached to her hip with one hand, tried to summon her shield with the other, but the moment she did she noticed the missing presence from her back, from her hip. That's right, she had lost Miló and Akoúo̱ on the tower when she was fighting Cinder. They weren't with her when her body evaporated from existence.

At least she thought it had, unless this was some other existence she had been thrown into. A much bloodier existence, maybe. She hadn't seen much carnage that the Grimm had delivered to Vale, for multiple reasons. Like dying. Besides, this wasn't the time to think about any of this. Where she was or why. She had to do something before all the people here were killed. Even if she didn't have her weapon or shield with her.

She rolled onto her stomach, pushing herself up with hands and knees. The little grains of dirt, the rough surface of the stone seemed to push into her skin, it was as if her body was highly sensitive to anything that touched it, including her clothes, especially the cloth swirled at her hip, brushing against her when she stumbled to her feet, head spinning from the sudden movement. Pyrrha braced her knees to stop herself from toppling back over, raising her head slowly when she heard footfalls heading in her direction.

The creature looked similar to a human, if its limbs weren't stretched out that's what she would have called it. The was bone clearly visible through a thin layer of skin, spiky dull red hair rested on its malformed skull. A cross between some identifiable animal and a human wielding a spear.

Pyrrha glanced around, trying to find a weapon she could use against it. Something better than a brick. A shriek filled the air and her gaze snapped back forward as the creature sailed through the air, jumping straight towards her, weapon held in both hands.

She tried to raise her hand up to block the wood shaft from hitting her, but her body didn't respond quickly enough; it was as if it wasn't use to these movements. Like it had never been in a fight before.

And she went sailing through the air a second later, crashing into a wall behind her. The stone held, not crumbling in from the blow. No pain followed the impact; her aura had protected her.

What little she had. Pyrrha blinked as the deformed creature began to run at her, and everything seemed to slow down. Like she was watching a film from some far-off place, even though she knew that wasn't true.

She was here, wherever here was, with death rushing at her once again.

Pyrrha sighed, her head hitting the stone behind her as she turned her face skyward. She wasn't looking at the sky though, not really. Her vision was too blurry. It seemed her body had just granted her her last dying wish: to express her emotions.

Her cheeks weren't just warm, they were hot as the tears ran down her face, all the way to her chin, dripping off to hit the fabric of her drapery, quickly soaking it through. Or maybe that's just how it felt. Like how she could have sworn steam was rising up from her face between the hot liquid she was producing and the chill in the air. Her lips trembled as she debated letting out that scream as well, crying so openly in the face of death. Again.

No wonder that man had called this place hell. She had already died once, already suffered enough. Why should she have to go through it all a second time? In even more pain, these people couldn't have been tortured like this before being released from it. What sort of sick place was this? How had she even gotten here? Just by dying? That was a sick joke for whatever had dragged her here to laugh at.

Why couldn't she rest in peace?

Pyrrha blinked to clear her vision, staring up at a whole moon. How bizarre, seeing it like that. It begged the question: just where was she? But it slipped from her mind when her gaze landed on the iron spikes on-top of the wall.

If she really was alive, then she couldn't die here. Not again. She had left so much behind the first time, a thousand words left unspoken, and so much more. She had gotten here somehow, there had to be a way out, back to her team, to Jaune.

Pyrrha lowered her gaze, looking at the creature just yards away from her, glancing at a dozen other beasts scattered around the area, either eating their fill of the dead or chasing the living. The latter was the the biggest threat.

She closed her eyes, remembering their positions as she focused, feeling the metal bend and snap beneath her will. The iron points turned, facing downward before she threw her hands out; forward, towards the creatures.

A thump echoed in her ears when she heard the beast in front of her fall. She had aimed that spike at its head, along with the rest she had targeted, not about to waste the little aura she had left, but she also didn't want to run out. Which is why some of the beasts were still alive, the effort of using her semblance on all of them would have drained her completely, leaving her open to anything else crawling around these streets.

She couldn't die. Not again, not here. She had to stay alive, and right now she wasn't going to do anything that would keep her from her goal.

The beasts going after those that were still alive were dead, and that was the best she could do. That and attracting the attention of every other beast. The civilians would be fine with their focus on her. She had done her duty as a huntress, now she just had to take care of the rest of them, without taking anything more than a glancing blow.

Pyrrha pushed herself back up, using the wall as support. She felt so weak. Why did she feel so weak?

She extended an arm, calling on her semblance once more, briefly to rip a long metal pole from a gate. Once her hand was wrapped around the cool metal she took a step forward, leaning heavily on it as she watched the creatures run toward her: the one threat to their feast.

Her breath formed in front of her as a cool frost when she exhaled. Then she began moving as quickly as her body would allow, forcing the beasts back by spinning her metal spear before she thrust it forward into one's chest, then quickly withdrawing it. One arm always extended out to her side to balance herself, switching hands when necessary, dodging a set of claws by merely letting herself collapse to her knees before forcing herself back up.

One by one the beasts fell, some yelping when she poked them with her makeshift spear, backing off just long enough for her to deal with the closest one. One thing had become clear as she fought: it was taking too long. With the tactics she had to use they weren't going down quickly enough. Either her aura - or her stamina - was going to fail her.

That wolf creature crept closer, as if sensing she was vulnerable. She jabbed at it with the spear, and it growled, knocking the weapon from her hands. Pyrrha stumbled back, breathing heavily as the beast raised itself onto its back feet, clearly intending to pounce on her. She just wasn't sure how much snapping of those teeth and tearing of claws her aura could endure before it shattered, if she could leap to the side quickly enough to get out of the way, grab her spear and plant it into the creature's side.

Her knees shook, threatening to lower her even further towards the ground as her eyelids fluttered.

There was a jagged sound filling the air, like little blades whirling in tandem that quickly built to a roar. The beast sniffed at the air, releasing a soft growl that broke into a long howl as sparks rained down on the air above it. Its body jerked and twisted when the saw met its skull, tearing through the bone in a messy fashion, continuing on its path along the spine, thrust forward through the stomach and then slammed onto the stone beneath it, splitting the beast in half.

Pyrrha took note of a gray coat, worn slacks, dirty boots before she fell forward, welcoming the dark depths of unconsciousness.


End file.
